


Mr. Styles' Asssistant

by arainyromance



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mall AU, harry used to be marcel but hes harry now so dont worry, hmm nothing big thats it, idk not too big
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 06:04:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1215388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arainyromance/pseuds/arainyromance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson needs a job so he becomes the assistant of the handsome Mr. Harry Styles, president of the Jewel Mall</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Styles' Asssistant

**Author's Note:**

> i dont even know

“I need a job.”  
  
“Damn right.”  
  
“Go get me a job.”  
  
“Get it yourself.”  
  
“Shut up and make me a sandwich.”  
  
Louis Tomlinson, a scruffy 22- year- old man, sat upside down on his couch in his shitty one- bedroom apartment that he shared with his irish friend, Niall Horan. He had been in this position for ten minutes and all his blood was rushing to his face. The man sat up correctly and felt like he was going to throw up, moving too quickly.  
  
The blonde boy from the kitchen came back with a sandwich and a beer, sitting next to Louis and turning on the television.  
  
“Holy shit, did you actually make me a sandwich?” Louis asked, reaching for the sandwich, getting a rather unnecessary hard slap because Niall was more protective of his food than any normal human should be.  
  
“No, bitch, get your own.” Niall took a Niall- sized bite and managed to get spit all over everything.  
  
Louis hmph’ed and leaned back, crossing his arms. “You’re an awful friend.”  
  
“An awful friend that pays the rent because a certain someone lost their certain job at a certain place.” Niall said, spitting food everywhere.  
  
“Who the hell would hire a college dropout with nothing to lose but their amazing bum.”  
  
Niall shrugged and stopped halfway. “You should be a stripper. You’d g- OW!”  
  
“I can’t just put this ass out there for people to see!”  
  
“You can and you would get money for it.”  
  
“I could also get an STD.”  
  
“Well you can’t spell stud with STD.”  
  
Louis stared at Niall for a long time and came to a conclusion.  
  
“You got kicked out of Ireland for saying shit like that, didn’t you?”  
~  
Louis decided to actually start looking for a job when he can home to no electricity.  
  
“Louis, why are you sitting in the dark?” Niall asked one night.  
  
He didn’t answer. He heard a light switch.  
  
“Louis, why isn’t the light turning on?” He asked.  
  
Once again, Louis didn’t answer. The light switch was flicked a couple more times before Niall went to the telly and tried to turn it on.  
  
“Louis, you need a fucking job to pay the fucking electricity bill because I can’t pay everything by myself.”  
  
“I have a job interview tomorrow. It’s an assistant job for the mall owner or something.”  
  
“Cool. When I pay the electricity bill tomorrow, I’m going to kill you because I made a cheesecake a while ago that is now going to go bad.” He said calmly before Louis heard his footsteps.  
  
Louis waited for their bedroom door to slam before lying on the couch, his bed for the night because when there’s food that Niall can’t eat, _Niall gets MAD_.  
~  
When Louis got to the mall, he found the office surprisingly easily.   
  
Which disappointed him because he thought he could say he couldn’t find it. There was a purple- haired man inside who Louis assumed was the boss.  
  
“Hi, I’m here for the job interview.” Louis gathered his courage to finally say after pacing around the mall for half an hour.  
  
The purple- haired boy looked up to him. “Sure, have a seat. What’s your name?”  
  
“Louis Tomlinson.”  
  
The boy scribbled his name on his hand and frowned as he looked at a piece of paper. “I’m Michael. What do you think of these lyrics?” He asked, sliding a piece of paper. “This determines if you become my assistant or not.” Louis panicked and read the lyrics. _Wait, wh-_  
  
“So, what do you think?” He asked with a straight face that was making Louis nervous as fuck.  
  
“Um, ‘standing there in my american apparel underwear’? That’s gold, mate.” Louis thought back to his pop punk days. And whether or not he’d be able to buy food later or not.  
  
The purple- haired boy held his fist out, which Louis immediately punched back, and let out a “Fuck, yeah! This song is gonna get me laid.” He swore, then muttered, “I hope.”  
  
He didn’t say anything else so Louis asked, “Did I get the job?”  
  
“Hmm? What job?” The boy lifted his head but his eyes not leaving his phone.  
  
“The assistant job!”  
  
“Oh, yeah. The boss’ assistant job, that what you want, right?”   
  
“You’re not the boss?” Louis asked, slightly angered by the man wasting his time. Purple Hair put away his phone and stood up, walking to the door a few feet away, “Follow me.”  
  
He poked his head through the door and said, “Hey, Styles? A guy is here for the job interview.”  
  
There was a response that was blocked by the door but it sounded like, “You didn’t tell me this before.”  
  
The purple haired man let out an awkward chuckle before saying, “Funny story. I forgot to tell you. But he’s here now and you know now so you should probably interview him because I can’t be your secretary and assistant at the same time. We both know I’m shit.”  
  
Another blocked response and the purple haired man opened the door for Louis to go in. “Mr. Styles will see you now.”  
  
“Thanks.” Louis smiled.  
  
“Man, I’ve always wanted to say that.” The man smiled, walking back to his desk.  
  
Louis closed the door and saw a man sitting at the desk across the room, right in front of the large window where the light was streaming him. The man’s head was down and all Louis could see was a mess of brown, curly hair. Can’t be too old with that much hair. He was writing something down furiously and Louis wasn’t sure if he should interrupt him or not.  
  
“Um, Mr. Styles?” Louis cleared his throat awkwardly. He got a long, pointer finger held up in response.  
  
“Oh, okay.” This guy needed to hurry the fuck up because this suit was choking Louis.  
  
After an eternity of awkward waiting, the pen was put down and the man threw his head back with a sigh, turning around in his rolly chair so Louis could only see his hair from the top. Another second and he cleared his throat. “Sorry about that. I had a burst of inspiration and if I don’t write it down now, I’ll hate myself forever.”  
  
He moved, probably straightening his suit, and turned around again, a big smile on his face. The man looked brightly at Louis and his face slowly changed into a face of confusion, then recognition, then surprise.  
  
“Louis Tomlinson!” He shouted, slamming his hands on the table and standing up.  
  
Louis jumped. “Yes, sir?”  
  
The man chuckled and a dimple in each cheek was exposed. Louis wanted to stick his finger in there.  
  
“You don’t remember me, do you?”  
  
Louis blinked.   
  
“Should I?”  
  
“I guess you wouldn’t. I’ve changed a lot but it’s not like you even noticed me in the first place.” He mumbled, eyes lowering to the floor as he fiddled with the buttons of his suit. He cleared his throat and pushed his hands away from himself, green eyes looking back to Louis. “We went to the same school together.”  
  
Louis’ eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t think so.”  
  
The man opened a drawer and pulled out big, round glasses, putting them on his face and pulled his curly hair back with one of his large hands. He cleared his throat and spoke in a nasally voice.  
  
“H- hi, Louis. It’s m- me, Harry Styles.”  
  
“Holy shit.” It was Harry Styles, the kid that used so much gel in his hair that you could hit your hand on it and your hand would break. The kid that everyone would make fun of just for being himself.  
  
Harry chuckled with his deep voice and shook out his curly hair. “Shocked?”  
  
For the first time in his life, Louis was at a loss for words. He couldn’t work his jaw that was currently on the floor, seemingly staying there for the rest of the day.  
  
“I think I broke you.” He smiled, “The spontaneous and flamboyant Louis Tomlinson, quiet for, probably, the first time in his life. You look great by the way.”  
  
Half- gathering his mind (and his words), Louis tried to get out a response, only ending with him going on a coughing fit, making him more embarrassed that he’s ever been.  
  
Suddenly a glass of water was being poured down his throat, slowing down his coughing fit.  
  
“Shit, are you okay? Did I actually break you?” Harry towered over him, holding a glass of water that was half full.  
  
“I- I’m fine.” Louis stuttered, hitting himself in the chest. He dropped his head, not wanting to let Harry see his red face. One of Harry’s hands was holding his arm and guiding Louis to one of the chairs in front of the desk, the other large hand against most of Louis’ small back.  
  
“Are you sure?” His voice full of concern.   
  
Louis nodded furiously and Harry bit his lip but went around to sit in his seat.  
  
“Shall we get started then? If you’re okay?” Harry smiled, fiddling with his pen. Louis nodded. “Do you have a resumé?”  
  
Louis opened his briefcase and took out the only thing in there.   
  
Harry took the paper and looked at it with a face of concentration. It was endearing, Louis thought, the way his forehead crinkled and his lips went off to the right side of his face.  
  
“You’ve had a ton of jobs, Louis, er, Mr. Tomlinson.”  
  
“It’s fine to call me Louis.” He told him. He got a smile of relief on Harry’s face.  
  
“Thanks. That would’ve been a problem.” He went back to scanning his resumé and looked back up, “So, why did you come here today, Louis?”  
  
That was the question Louis hoped he wouldn’t ask.  
  
“Um, I need money to pay for rent so I don’t get thrown out of my flat.”  
  
It didn’t faze Harry as much as it did to the other people who interviewed him in the past. The man just nodded and asked him another question. “Normally, I wouldn’t ask this but because we went to school together,” _Shit_ , Louis thought, “can you even take notes?”  
  
Louis sighed in relief at not getting a question like, ‘are you smoking weed’ or ‘will put glue in your boss’ seat’ because he did definitely not not do that during school.  
  
“Yes, I can.” Louis said proudly. “The teachers were just too boring for me to take notes back then. I taught myself how to focus.” _Wow, I’m lame_ , Louis thought.  
  
Harry actually laughed like what he just said was funny and not lame.   
  
“Just making sure.” He wrote something down and put Louis’ resumé down, tangling his fingers. “One last thing, are you okay with late night calls that may or may not sometimes happen more often than it should?”  
  
“Yeah, that’s fine. My friend is always making the biggest decisions of his life in the middle of the night anyways so.”  
  
Harry raised a brow. “Like what?”  
  
“A few nights ago, he decided to get a tattoo of a potato on his butt-”  
  
“He didn’t?!”  
  
“He did. And he forgot all about it the next morning.”  
  
Harry exploded in laughter. “Did you tell him?”  
  
“No fucking way. It was a fake tattoo anyways but the tattoo guy told me it’ll be hard work to get it off.”  
  
“Oh my god, you are totally hired if I get to see a picture of your friend’s potato butt!”  
  
Louis beamed. “Seriously?”  
  
The man shrugged and stood up. “You’re hired anyways. Potato butts just get you a little raise around here.” Louis jumped up, completely over- joyed at the thought of _money_ and _food_ but also a _hot_ _boss_.  
  
“You can start tomorrow then!”  
  
“That would be awesome.”  
  
“Great.” Louis could get used to Harry’s smile. “Come here at 8 and I’ll help you get set up.”  
  
“Yes, sir! See you tomorrow!”  
~ 

Later that night, Harry was relaxing when he got a text from an unknown number.  
  
 _hey boss as i promised- a potato but! see you tomorrow! xx louis_  
  
Underneath the short message was a picture of a pale, left butt cheek with a potato tattoo with sunglasses.  
  
Harry laughed until his stomach hurt.


End file.
